


Scribbles

by goldvermilion87



Category: Great Mouse Detective (1986), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-09
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-15 22:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldvermilion87/pseuds/goldvermilion87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <b>Sweet Dreams</b>
</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> **Sweet Dreams**

**Sweet Dreams**

"Tea?"

"Yes. My solution is almost complete. It will keep me alert for...for…"

"Pity you didn't notice that tea was a sleeping draught, then."

* * *

 _Written for the 25 member challenge on Sherlock's Chagrin at livejournal: http://community.livejournal.com/sherlockchagrin_


	2. Sweet Dreams

**Basil the Warrior?**

Olivia Flaversham loved to pretend. Daddy would tell her stories of Martin the Warrior, and then she'd put on the pretty princess dress Mummy made for her and the tiara Daddy made to match, and imagine she was captured by Ripfang the Pirate and Martin was coming to save her!

She never thought her pretend would become real…or that reality would be so different.

Being kidnapped was more scary than exciting.

And she didn't feel like a princess in her everyday clothes.

And she never _ever_ imagined that her knight wouldn't be able to remember…

"My dear Miss Flangerhanger!"


	3. Not Always Greener

There was a detective of note  
Who hated what his Boswell wrote.  
But after he read  
What some fangirls said,  
He cried, "Watson, your fic gets my vote!"


	4. 25 July 1880

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A journal entry

It is with bitter amusement that I recall the summer in which gypsies camped in the field by the tall oak. I wanted to live with them and be free of my pinching shoes and strict schoolmaster! To move from place to place at my whim. But Mother said it was a life of disease, and hunger, and we would miss home.  
  
I would beg her forgiveness for my foolish attempts to run away now, if I could.  
  
What horror must it have been for those gypsies without even the conveniences enjoyed by victorious Britons in Her Majesty’s Armed Forces?


End file.
